From Light to Dark
by jamie marr
Summary: Harry Potter has been sent back to the time of the Marauders, but is all as it seems? Follow Harry's journey From Light to Dark. T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

With shoulders that slumped and feet that barely lifted off the ground, the teen dragged himself up the stairs to his recent sleeping spot. Curling up as a cat does in its basket, the boy hugged his jacket around him tighter, attempting to keep the icy winter winds out, and quickly fell asleep in his corner.

The teen was absolutely exhausted, it had been a long day and he had had nothing to eat and only drunk the small amount of rain that was falling.

He was about fifteen years old, he thought, but couldn't remember anything before the last few days – he wasn't even sure of his name. Suddenly, a man in a black cloak and mask, making him look strangely out of place, appeared. He noticed the teen sleeping somewhat peacefully and felt the colour drain out of his face. This was replaced by excitement – he was going to be rewarded above all others for the discovery of this boy. Lifting the boy gently with a stick like object so as not to wake him, he disappeared with a crack.

xxxxx

The Death Eaters were in a meeting with the Dark Lord when Lucius Malfoy appeared with a crack. He was feared by most of the Death Eaters due to his 'relationship' with the Dark Lord, so none but the latter questioned his late arrival.

"Lucius; to what displeasure do I owe this lateness?"

"My Lord," the man named Lucius started, "I found this on the street. I take it you know who he is, My Lord?"

"Ah, of course," the Dark Lord stated looking down at the face of the boy. "How I have wanted this meeting to occur. Gentlemen," he began, looking at the Death Eaters surrounding him, "We have none other than Harry Potter in our midst."

At this proclamation, the Death Eaters began cheering. At the sudden loud noises, the boy named Harry woke with a start. He looked around confusedly, having no idea where he was. It looked like a meeting of some sort, and their leader – Harry took a sharp breath at the sight of him. He had bright red eyes and slits for nostrils – his face closely resembling that of a snake. Harry felt himself filling with fear even though he had no idea who this man was.

"Ah, Harry. I see you've decided to join us once again." The boy looked around wondering whom this man was talking to. Upon realising he was the only one not dressed the same, he figured he must be Harry.

Harry looked back at the Dark Lord with a puzzled expression. "Yes, I was talking to you Harry. I am curious however, as to why you seem to have no idea who, and where, you are; feigning ignorance won't save you."

Harry felt his throat constrict at this question. He had no idea who he was and was concerned that this man knew him.

"I- I'm- Harry," he stuttered.

"Yes, I do believe we already know that. I asked you, however, why you have decided to grace us with your company. Surely he did not come willingly Lucius?"

'Lucius, what a strange name' Harry thought, 'but why does it ring a bell?'

"My Lord, he was asleep on a muggle street. As you noticed when we arrived, he was still asleep. He had no choice in coming here."

Burying his nervousness at hearing these strange words and the way the men were speaking about him, Harry asked "Where's here? I've got no idea where I am, or who I am for that matter. Fill me in?"

"My Lord, I don't understand. What has happened to him?" the man named Lucius questioned.

"I am unsure. However, we must use this to our benefit. If the boy doesn't know anything, it will be all the easier to kill him. It seems an unsatisfying way to end this battle, but I must take advantage of this opportunity – it may never come again."

Harry stood perplexed, wondering why this man would want to kill him, and what battle he was talking about.

"I can see that you are going to kill me, however I would like to know why. I've never met you before and can't think of anything I would have done to you. Care to enlighten me?"

At this statement, a jet of red light shot at Harry and he felt the most excruciating pain of his life. His attempts to stay quiet were futile and he was sure the screams tearing from his throat would be heard for miles.

Suddenly, the pain ceased and Harry struggled to rise. Looking up at his torturer, he heard, "I will not take insolence from you anymore, Harry. If you truly are ignorant of what has happened, I shall inform you. You have been my enemy since the day you were born fifteen years ago. I have tried to kill you on numerous occasions, and have killed your parents and many of your friends. Oh yes, and your godfather too, though credit for that must go to Bella. How you came to be in this state, however, is beyond me – probably your Gryffindor stupidity once again."

A look of dawning appeared on Harry's face. His memory was coming back and he suddenly realised he did not fear this man – he absolutely hated him. There was nothing he could do at this point, however, as he had lost his wand in his last battle with the Death Eaters – the reason he had lost his memory. He remembered a jet of green light flying at him and then waking up lying in a muggle street – how and why he had managed to escape death was beyond him, surely there weren't Death Eaters trying to protect him. 'It must have been a stray curse' he decided.

"Ah, I see your memory has returned. I must say the hate in your eyes is quite flattering. I will offer you two choices Harry. Join me –" Voldemort was cut off by Harry shouting furiously, "Never!"

"But Harry, you may change your mind upon hearing your second choice." Voldemort continued. Harry thought this was very unlikely, retorting, "I doubt anything you offer will make me join you."

"A shame, Harry, you would have done well here. But that is your choice. You have obviously chosen death then. Goodbye, Harry. I am glad you will no longer concern me."

Harry had realised as soon as he was offered choices that he was going to be killed. He had accepted this fate years ago, but was suddenly fearful of death. He saw rather than heard the jet of green light leave Voldemort's wand, and braced himself for impending death. His last thoughts were 'See you soon, mum and dad.'

The jet of light hit Harry in the chest, his lifeless body falling to the ground. As the Death Eaters celebrated Harry's death, not one person in the room noticed a golden mist surround Harry. The light disappeared within seconds, leaving everyone unaware of what had just happened.

* * *

A/N: I've re-read this, and parts truly make me cringe. This marks the start of a rewrite, and then, hopefully, me actually finishing the story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Harry slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring at a blurry, yet all too familiar, ceiling. He was in the Hogwarts hospital wing. This truly threw Harry. He now had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Harry reached for the table beside his bed for his glasses. He sat up as everything around him came into focus and an extremely worried looking Matron suddenly filled his vision.

"Madam Pomphrey! Poppy!" Harry exclaimed, wondering why she was in this, was it a dream?

"Yes, Madam Pomphrey, though not Poppy. It's a lovely name though." the Hogwarts Matron replied. Harry was extremely confused. If this wasn't Poppy, but _was_ Madam Pomphrey, then who was she? He decided that she must be Poppy's mother, but having never met her couldn't understand why she was here.

"What is going on? What happened to me?" Harry asked, feeling that asking about his death wasn't the best move.

"You are in the Hogwarts hospital wing," 'At least I got that bit right', Harry thought, "You appeared in the grounds unconscious three days ago. You were pretty beaten up, for a while we thought you weren't going to make it. You are healed now, which is the main thing, but you will have to excuse me for a moment. Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell him when you woke up."

At the mention of Dumbledore Harry became even more confused. Someone else who wasn't dead was in his dream, but he figured that this Dumbledore, like the one he knew, would be able to explain what had happened.

The doors to the infirmary opened and Dumbledore appeared with Madam Pomphrey. Dumbledore looked slightly younger than Harry remembered him, his hair and beard were shorter but his eyes still had their trademark twinkle.

"Ah, I see that you have rejoined the conscious world. We feared for a time that this would not occur; you came extremely close to death. Whatever you went through must have been horrific." Dumbledore said, his twinkling eyes giving Harry the familiar feeling of being x-rayed.

Harry sat in silence realising that Dumbledore had no idea who he was or what had happened to him. This worried Harry slightly, especially since he lacked the same knowledge.

"I wonder if you could inform us of who you are and how you came to be at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore inquired. Harry remained silent, wondering what to say. Should he tell Dumbledore the truth, or lie? He decided on the truth – or at least part of it.

"I'm really not sure how I got here. Vol- this man hit me with the killing curse and then I woke up here. I'm dead, right? I'm not quite sure why you are here though. You weren't dead the last I knew."

Dumbledore gave Harry a calculating look before responding. "No, I am not dead. And would also like to point out that you in fact are not dead either, unless my, excuse my phrasing, cleverness has misinformed me and I am in fact dead also."

Harry had to chuckle at this statement. This Dumbledore was exactly like the one he remembered.

"I do believe, however, that you still have not mentioned your name. You look very similar to one of the students here, though I believe he has no known relatives around your age."

Harry's heart beat hard in his chest. Surely Dumbledore wasn't inferring Harry's father with his last comment. Sudden realisation hit Harry. Madam Pomphrey _was_ Poppy's mother, Dumbledore _was _younger, and Harry's father, mother, and _the_ Marauders were here! Harry was in the past!

"Oh, I'm Harry, sir, Harry P-Peters." Harry cursed himself for letting out his first name and hurriedly changed his surname before it was too late. Dumbledore shared a significant look with the Matron at Harry's stumble, and she left the infirmary immediately.

"Well, Mr Peters, it is nice to meet you. I am Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster here at Hogwarts. I must ask, are you related to James Potter? You look uncannily alike."

Harry felt his chest constrict at the mention of James – his father really was here. "Sorry Professor, I've never heard of a James Potter before, though I s'pose that doesn't mean we aren't related."

"Yes, it is possible. You do look very similar though. No matter."

At this point, Madam Pomphrey returned, leading a very confused looking James Potter. Harry gasped at the sight of his father. They really were as similar as everyone told him. Harry realised that if he were standing, he and James would be within an inch of the same height.

"Ah, Mr Potter, how nice to see you again. I can assure you that you are not in trouble." At this statement, James visibly relaxed, whilst Harry resisted the urge to laugh. "This is Harry Peters," Dumbledore continued, "He assures me that you are not related no matter how much you look alike, and I'm sure we would know about him if you were."

James was giving Harry a strange look, as if calculating the teen before him.

"I've summoned you, Mr Potter, to prevent the shock of meeting your would-be twin in the halls without forewarning. Perhaps you could show Mr Peters around the school; you seem to have an excellent knowledge of it," Dumbledore's eyes were sparkling, "And I'm sure a familiar face would be welcome." Dumbledore had no idea about the familiarity Harry possessed with the students of his school.

"Um, I guess, Professor, sure." James replied, still looking puzzled with the scene before him.

"Thank you, James. You may return to class now – Transfiguration I believe?" James looked stunned that the Headmaster knew his timetable, but nodded and turned to leave.

James was nearly at the doors when he turned and faced Harry. "I s'pose I'll see you around then, eh Harry?" he said with a smirk.

Harry just nodded and smiled in response, hoping deep down that he would be seeing a lot more of James.

Harry turned back to Dumbledore just in time to see an inquisitive look on his face, as if wondering the truth about the teen in front of him.

"Well, Harry, I believe that is settled. This is all, of course, if you wish to stay?" Dumbledore asked as if realising he hadn't made this point yet.

"Oh, yeah. I definitely want to stay. As if I would miss out on Hogwarts!"

"Yes, of course Mr Peters. I have a feeling Poppy will want to keep you here a while longer," Harry groaned at this, causing Dumbledore to chuckle. "I'm sure that you would rather leave, but we must ensure that you are okay. I will make an announcement to the school tonight telling them that you have come from a school abroad and not to question you too much. It is Halloween in two days time, so we shall sort you at the feast. I feel you will fit in in Sixth Year; you haven't missed too much yet to be at a disadvantage. Good afternoon, Mr Peters."

Dumbledore excused himself from the infirmary, leaving Harry to his extremely jumbled thoughts. He resolved to not tell anyone about his past, their future, but was determined to get to know his parents. Harry nearly broke down as his thoughts moved to Sirius. He was still alive! Harry was going to have to try very hard not to show sadness around Sirius.

Harry then realised that Wormtail was a part of the gang. Harry was going to have a hard time not killing the man that ruined his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Dumbledore had been looking for Harry for over a week now. He remembered the event that had led to Harry's disappearance.

_The sight that greeted Dumbledore was horrible. Bodies were strewn all over the ground of Hogsmeade, blood covering the majority of buildings in the small wizarding village. It concerned Dumbledore that the attack was happening so close to Hogwarts, though he was glad for the absence of students during the summer._

_In the midst of the Death Eater fight, Dumbledore saw Harry fighting with Bellatrix. He couldn't understand how Harry had gotten here, but decided to ignore the fact for the moment – Harry was starting to tire._

"_What's wong Harry? Are you scarwed of mwe? Don't wu want wevenge?" Dumbledore heard Bellatrix taunting Harry about Sirius' death. It was taking its toll too._

"_I'm going to kill you, Bellatrix, you are going to pay for killing –" Dumbledore's heart stopped when he saw a jet of green light hit Harry. Instead of falling lifelessly to the ground, Harry simply disappeared._

What had happened to Harry? The green light had to be the killing curse, but his sudden disappearance suggested otherwise. Something strange had occurred, and Dumbledore wasn't going to rest until he found out what that was.

It was a shock to Dumbledore that his extensive knowledge had failed him on this occasion – he had never seen such a curse. He had searched everything to find out more, but nothing helpful had surfaced thus far.

Just then there was a knock on Dumbledore's office door. Not expecting any visitors, Dumbledore almost questioningly stated, "Enter".

Dumbledore was surprised to see Severus enter his office, having not arranged to meet the Death Eater turn spy.

"Albus, Potter was found this morning," Severus began, whilst Dumbledore felt momentary relief.

"I take it this means Harry is with Voldemort?"

"He was. Lucius found him asleep in a muggle street and brought him to Voldemort. When he arrived, he seemingly had no memory of anything. He was confused and showed no emotion towards the Dark Lord." Severus stated plainly.

"You said he _was_ with Voldemort? What happened?" Dumbledore asked, hoping he was mistaken in expecting the worst.

"The Dark Lord explained parts of his life, which seemed to give Potter his memory back. He offered him the choice of joining him or death. Potter foolishly told the Dark Lord he would never join him, and then the Dark Lord killed him."

Dumbledore couldn't believe he was hearing this. The saviour of the wizarding world was dead! Just when Voldemort had come back into the open after the incident at the Ministry, the one person who could put an end to everyone's suffering was dead!

Dumbledore was brought out of his thoughts at the sound of Severus continuing. "- but his body has disappeared. The Dark Lord hit him with the killing curse, causing the Death Eaters to rejoice, but when they decided to remove the body, it was already gone. The Dark Lord was furious," Severus stated with an uncharacteristic shudder.

This threw Dumbledore. Why would Voldemort get rid of the body? Though from what Severus had just told him, Voldemort didn't know it was gone. Dumbledore heard Severus say he had to get back, which left him to his even more confused thoughts.

What had happened to Harry? Was he actually dead? And if he wasn't, where was he? Severus had said that Harry had lost his mind, which Dumbledore decided must be an effect of the curse that hit him in Hogsmeade. Had Harry survived the killing curse yet again?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Dumbledore had been right (of course) – Madam Pomphrey did not let him out of the infirmary until Halloween night, by which time Harry was begging to leave.

"Please, Madam Pomphrey. I'm honestly fine. Look, I can walk and everything. Can I please go, please?" he gave her a puppy dog look, and she caved almost instantly.

"Fine, but if you feel anything you have to come back straight away. Promise me that," the Matron sighed as Harry smirked triumphantly.

"Whatever you say, I'll come back," he trailed off as he tore through the doors of the infirmary, glad to finally be out of the place.

It was when Harry left that he realised he wasn't at _his_ Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione weren't here, and though he knew of people, not one person knew him.

Harry reached the doors of the Great Hall just as Dumbledore stood up to make his speech. Upon sighting Harry, Dumbledore smiled widely.

"As you are all aware, we have a new student among us. He has come from a school abroad due to personal reasons, and I ask that you do not question him on this. Now Mr Peters, if you will come forward," Dumbledore stated, motioning towards the three legged stool holding a ragged looking Sorting Hat.

Harry felt the gazes of every member of the school fall on him, and wished he was invisible as the whispers began. He wasn't even famous in this time and people still whispered about him.

Harry reached the front of the Hall, sat on the stool and watched the Hall disappear as the Sorting Hat fell over his eyes.

"_Ah, Mr Potter – we meet again,"_ Harry was startled at this statement. How did the Hat know who he was? _"Yes, I know what happened to you, though I don't think anyone else does. I say we keep that between ourselves."_ Harry silently agreed with the Hat, he couldn't even imagine what would happen if the truth got out. _"Now, I'm meant to be sorting you aren't I? You have qualities for all Houses and would be an asset wherever I put you._

"_I think we can rule out Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, just not you. That leaves Slytherin and Gryffindor. I believe we've had this argument before. I will say the same thing however; you would do well in Slytherin, Harry. I don't think you have ever realised the number of favourable qualities you possess."_ Harry had to disagree with the Hat; he was adamant at not being in Slytherin – they were the Death Eaters of his time.

"_Gryffindor would be happy to have you once again, I feel, but why not try something different. Slytherin will lead you to greatness,"_ Harry frantically thought "No! No no no no no!" He heard it take a breath and hoped it wouldn't yell – _"SLYTHERIN!"_

Harry groaned as he heard scattered applause from the Slytherin table. He couldn't believe it; he was in the same time as his parents and their friends, but was denied being in their House. He begrudgingly made his way toward the Slytherin table, wishing that Voldemort's curse had killed him. The Sorting Hat had officially made his life a nightmare.

As Harry took his place at the Slytherin table, Dumbledore continued with his speech. Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table sadly; he hadn't even considered being in another House. He saw his father and the Marauders whispering conspiringly, and began to feel hurt that he wouldn't be a part of the famous group.

xxxxx

The remainder of the night passed in a daze as Harry sulked at being Sorted into Slytherin. Without realising, he had reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Harry's bad luck continued, with no one around to tell him the password.

Just as he was starting to panic that he would be in the corridor all night, he heard footsteps coming towards him. Harry was startled at the sight of Snape; he had completely forgotten he would be here.

"Peters, is it? You look a lot like Potter. You're not related, are you?" Harry heard the loathing in Snape's voice and remembered the memory he had seen last year of his father tormenting Snape. Harry filled with shame.

"Not that I know of. I s'pose it is a lucky coincidence that we look like twins." Harry mumbled in a defeated voice.

"I would have to say it is unlucky. You are new, so I shall tell you now. James Potter is an arrogant prat who takes pleasure in tormenting anyone other than his friends and Lily." Harry heard the mixed sadness and hate at the mention of Lily and James. He decided not to argue the point with Snape at the risk of being on his bad side after only ten minutes.

"I suggest you avoid him at all costs, unless you wish to be humiliated in front of the entire school. _Pureblood_." Harry was stunned at the last word, but quickly realised that it was the password as the stone wall began to slide away.

Harry ignored everyone in the common room and headed directly to his new dorm. The greenish light gave an eerie feeling to the underground House, emphasising to Harry what he was missing out on.

Harry made his way to the empty bed in the Sixth Year dormitory, and sleepily noticed that he had a trunk and a seemingly full set of supplies. There was a note on the top:

_Harry,_

_I hope this will make fitting in easier. You don't want to be the odd one out on your first day, so I took the liberty to gather your supplies._

_Good luck,_

_Professor Dumbledore._

Harry silently thanked Dumbledore for his thoughtfulness and changed into his new pyjamas. He sat in his new four-poster and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: ** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning and looked around confusedly. It was then he remembered the previous night.

"_Slytherin will lead you to greatness,"_ Harry frantically thought "No! No no no no no!" He heard it take a breath and hoped it wouldn't yell – _"SLYTHERIN!"_

Harry still couldn't believe he had been Sorted into Slytherin. He had never imagined life at Hogwarts in any House other than Gryffindor, and was struggling to come to terms with this development. He lay quietly in bed for a few more minutes, deciding that he would still make the most of his time with his parents. It was still very early when Harry got out of bed, but he headed out of the dorm and to breakfast anyway.

Harry was one of the first students to reach the Hall. He looked towards the empty Gryffindor table, thinking unhappily about what fun he would be having if he was in the same House as his father. He stared up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. The sky outside seemed to be reflecting his mood, with dark clouds and rain dominant.

Harry didn't notice as other students began entering, he was still lost in his thoughts, pushing food around his plate absently.

"Peters? Peters!" Harry started at the sound of his adopted name, bringing him reluctantly out of his reverie. He looked around to see who was talking to him, and noticed a rather large Professor looking down at him.

"I'm Professor Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin. Firstly, welcome to Hogwarts, I trust you will enjoy it. Secondly, I have to set your timetable. Any preferences?" the man named Slughorn asked Harry.

"Anything but Divination." Harry quickly said.

"Right you are, Mr Peters." Slughorn chuckled, tapping a piece of blank parchment with his wand and handing it to Harry before walking away.

Harry looked down at the subjects he had been given: Charms, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. At least he had a few things to look forward to, especially Potions with a teacher other than Snape.

xxxxx

Harry's first week passed in a blur of homework and classes, and he spent little time interacting with his housemates – they weren't his type, surprisingly. He had tried to speak to James on Thursday and distinctly heard James muttering "Slytherins..." to Sirius before walking off. He was a little hurt by this, but realised that James knew nothing about Harry and was therefore unlikely to be friends with him yet – even after their meeting in the Infirmary. Harry resolved to try harder to get to know his father.

Saturday morning came and Harry decided to head to the Quidditch pitch. It was still quite early, and Harry figured he could fly for a while before anyone came out.

Harry collected one of the school brooms from the store cupboard, silently mourning the loss of his Firebolt. It hit Harry hard that it had been Sirius who had given him his Firebolt.

Harry kicked off the ground and felt the familiar rush of flying as all his worries left him. Although the school broom wasn't amazing, it still felt great to be back in the air. The cold air whipped Harry's face, waking him up fully. His joy of flying would never cease.

Harry flew a few laps around the pitch and did a couple of loops before noticing people were heading toward the pitch. He quickly landed, and, realising his hunger, headed back to the castle for breakfast.

xxxxx

As Harry reached the Slytherin table, he heard his name being called.

"Hey! Peters!" Harry turned to see a burly Seventh Year running up to him.

"I'm Gibbs, Quidditch Captain." He stuck out a hand, which Harry took warily. "I saw you flying this morning. What do you say to joining the House team? We've been looking for a Seeker for ages." Gibbs asked him.

Harry was torn; he loved Quidditch, but on the Slytherin team? Like most things in this time, it just wasn't right. It was when he remembered his father played on the Gryffindor team that Harry's Slytherin side decided showing a shared interest and skill would be the perfect way to develop a friendship with James.

"Definitely. When do we play?" Harry asked as a smirk crossed his face.

Gibbs looked taken back by Harry's sudden change in mood, but was glad that he agreed to play. They had the Trophy in the bag this year.

"Our first game is against Ravenclaw next Saturday, and we have training tomorrow night." he told Harry before walking away.

Harry couldn't have been happier at the sudden change of events – he was going to play Quidditch and it was going to get him closer to his father. He was already filled with excitement for the game next Saturday.

His mood was dampened however when he remembered the pile of homework waiting for him. Laughing at the thought of Hermione's praise if she knew he was getting his homework done early, Harry headed back to the common room. He had a feeling that his time in the past was taking a turn for the best.

xxxxx

Harry's first training with the Slytherins was nothing short of abysmal. He flew well but was constantly targeted by his teammates because of his resemblance to a certain Gryffindor.

After an hour of being chased by bludgers and having not seen the Snitch once, Harry gave up and stormed away from training livid. He was going to find Gibbs the next day and quit. Harry laughed inwardly at himself – he hadn't even lasted a day on the team.

xxxxx

After a sleepless night, Harry decided he would remain on the team – it was beginning to look like his only shot at befriending his father, and he wasn't going to let that pass.

Breakfast held a surprise. Harry didn't even look up when the owls entered, knowing that there was no one to write him. He was therefore shocked when a jet-black owl landed in front of him.

Harry took the letter from the bird and it flew away. He slowly unrolled the parchment wondering who on earth would send him a letter.

_Harry Potter,_

_I know what happened to you and how you came here. I am sure you are curious, Harry, and I will answer all of your questions. I know that no one else has any idea what has happened, so why not let me tell you._

_Find a way into Hogsmeade this Saturday afternoon and I will be there._

The note wasn't signed, but Harry had no doubt whom it was from. Voldemort knew he was in the past and was managing to haunt Harry still.

xxxxx

For the remainder of the week, Harry found himself subconsciously plotting ways to get into Hogsmeade on Saturday. He told himself that he only wanted to find out what happened, but deep down he was curious as to how Voldemort found him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Harry awoke on Saturday morning a bundle of nerves. He hadn't been nervous before a Quidditch game in years, but this one was important. If he played well, Harry was sure that James and the Marauders would finally accept him (or at least make some attempt at friendship).

But this wasn't only what was making Harry nervous. His meeting with Voldemort was to take place after the game, and he still wasn't sure if he was making the right choice.

xxxxx

Harry didn't pay any attention to Gibbs' pre-match talk, and before he knew it, he was circling the pitch looking for the Snitch.

Harry barely heard the commentary in the background – but did hear that it was 30-10 to Ravenclaw. This caused Harry to begin searching with a new vigour. He suddenly stopped when he realised that he was beginning to care about what happened with the game.

Harry had only joined the team to get close to James and the Marauders, and didn't care whether or not Slytherin won. However, sometime during his past week of rejections, Harry had ended up caring about his new House.

The sound of cheering broke Harry out of these thoughts, and he suddenly realised he had been stationary for more than a minute. Looking around quickly, Harry thought he spotted the Snitch hovering near the Ravenclaw goal, but a moment later he realised that it was just a wristwatch.

Once again circling the pitch, Harry felt his stomach drop when he noticed the Ravenclaw Seeker diving towards the ground – he had missed seeing the Snitch.

Harry immediately began to dive, and, to the delight of the Slytherin crowd, was quickly gaining on the Ravenclaw Seeker. Within moments, they were neck and neck and only metres from the ground.

The Ravenclaw Seeker pulled out of the dive suddenly, as if worried he was going to plough into the ground. Harry continued his descent; he was famous for this kind of catch, levelling out less than a metre before the ground. He reached out and caught the Snitch to a collective gasp.

Immediately, cheers were heard from the Slytherin supporters and groans from the remainder of the crowd – Slytherin had won 210-50.

A smirk crossed Harry's face when he realised the extent to which he had just shown off his flying skills – he was going to become friends with his father for sure.

xxxxx

Walking back up to the Castle, Harry heard the distinctive voices of his father and godfather ahead of him. He rushed to catch up, but held back slightly to hear what they were talking about.

"- the new kid. Not a bad flyer, eh James. He could give you a run!" Harry heard Sirius say, and he could imagine the smirk on his face.

"Whatever, Sirius. I really don't care," came James' reply.

"Aww, come on Prongs – are you jealous?" Sirius teased.

"Not in the slightest. Why should I care about a stupid Slytherin? I met him, you know. I thought he would be cool. But evidently I was mistaken."

Harry stopped walking, not wanting to hear anymore of the conversation. He couldn't believe that his father would think something like that simply because Harry was in Slytherin. Harry had thought that his flying ability would have helped his cause to becoming friends with James, but it seemed that it had only made it worse.

It was this rejection that made Harry's decision – he was going to see Voldemort this afternoon.

xxxxx

Two hours later, Harry was wandering in Hogsmeade still brooding over what James had said to Sirius. It had made Harry realise that he had little chance of becoming friends with his father, and he decided to blame the Sorting Hat – if it hadn't put him in Slytherin, there would have been hope.

Harry was beginning to wonder why he had even thought about coming. Voldemort was the man that ruined his life – he killed his parents and tried many times to kill him.

But there was something about Voldemort's letter that made Harry come. How could Voldemort's past self know that he, Harry, was here? And if he wanted to see Harry that bad, why wouldn't he just attack Hogwarts and take him from there? Harry decided it was his curiosity – like the Philosopher's Stone, like the Chamber of Secrets, like everything he, Ron and Hermione _had _to figure out. He just hoped that this curiosity wouldn't lead to his death.

Suddenly, Harry was engulfed by blackness and felt their air leave his lungs. It was like being squeezed through a tube.

xxxxx

Just as quickly as it started, the feeling stopped. Harry looked around to find that he was no longer in Hogsmeade. He noticed a handsome man who didn't look much older than himself.

"Harry, I hope you understand I couldn't risk staying in Hogsmeade. No doubt you have some questions?"

Harry suddenly realised that the man was Voldemort. His features were not yet snakelike, though his eyes had begun to turn red. He reminded Harry of the memory in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry's curiosity was burning, but was becoming concerned at what Voldemort wanted from him. Surely he would be dead already if that was what he, Voldemort, wanted. Harry realised, once again, that his famous characteristic of acting without thinking was going to be his downfall.

"You know, Harry, surprising as it may be, I don't intend on hurting you." Voldemort said, almost as if reading Harry's thoughts. "My future self paid me a visit, something that only a powerful wizard such as myself can achieve. The night you disappeared after your 'death' he, that is I, couldn't understand what had happened. However, the connection of our minds was still there, and through searching your mind carefully without your knowledge, he realised you were here."

Harry was shocked at how much Voldemort knew and how quickly he figured it all out. He was wondering why Voldemort had no intention of causing him harm – it couldn't be anything good.

"What do you want with me?" Harry began, "Surely it would make your future life easier if you killed me now – what's stopping you?"

"No doubt it would, Harry, but surely you would rather live?"

"Of course, but that's not the point. You must want something from me if you aren't going to kill me."

Voldemort was silent for a while, almost as though he himself did not know why he wasn't killing Harry.

"Honestly, Harry, I have no idea why I'm not killing you. Maybe I, like you, have curiosity issues. But moving on from that, I'm going to teach you to Apparate so that if you have any more questions you can come and see me."

"Sure, Apparating is great, but you can't do it within Hogwarts and I doubt I'm going to be able to get out too often without people noticing."

"Ah, but this kind of apparition isn't stopped by wards. You can do it anywhere. It will, however, only allow you to go to and from me."

Harry was excited at learning how to Apparate, but slightly concerned that Voldemort wanted to meet him more than just this once. He still wasn't sure whether this form of Apparition would work – the wards of Hogwarts were powerful.

The sound of Voldemort's voice broke Harry out of his thoughts. "Now, Harry, because of our connection – even though it is with my future self and you, it will still work – you will be able to use a special form of Apparition that is very easy to learn. You must simply focus on our connection, almost as though reaching out to me with your mind. This will allow you to come to me, while pushing me away with your mind will allow you to leave. Try it now."

Harry thought he had very little chance of making this work, but figured it was worth trying anyway. He heard Voldemort moving away so that there was a space between them, and began to focus on him – to Harry it was like the opposite of Occlumency.

Suddenly, Harry felt as though he was being squeezed through a tube again. When the sensation stopped, Harry noticed he was in front of Voldemort once more; it had worked.

"See, that wasn't too hard. When you leave, you will need to focus on where it is you want to go. I will also give you this. When it heats up, it means that I wish to speak with you. I expect you to come immediately when you feel it."

Voldemort handed Harry a large, rusted, bronze key that looked as though whatever lock it went with had long rusted away. Harry pocketed it in his robes and looked back at Voldemort.

"I still don't understand what you are thinking, but I s'pose I can't complain," Harry began. Before he could finish Voldemort began speaking again.

"Don't worry. Remember, I will answer your questions even if no one else does. And if the key grows hot, you best make an excuse to get away – I am not very patient, as you may well know. Now put your new skill to the test and get back to Hogwarts."

Harry once again focused on their connection, pushing away from Voldemort whilst thinking about Moaning Myrtle's bathroom – it would be safe to turn up there.

xxxxx

Harry lay awake that night thinking about his meeting with Voldemort. He still had no idea why he actually went and saw him – they didn't exactly have a great future past together. Harry was beginning to think along the lines of the muggle saying 'curiosity killed the cat' – his damn curiosity was going to be the death of him.

What confused Harry the most was Voldemort's treatment of him. It was as though Voldemort actually cared about him, something that would take Harry a long time to believe. And the key – what could Voldemort ever want to talk to him about. Though, Harry thought, he showed today that he didn't really need a reason to talk to Harry – Voldemort generally got what he wanted.

It was with these thoughts that Harry fell into a deep sleep filled with confused dreams that never focussed for long enough for Harry to make out what was happening.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

The Great Lake was frozen over for the winter, leaving Harry reminiscing of snowball fights had with Ron, Hermione, and the Weasley twins. He strolled around the shore of the Lake, his footprints lost among sets left earlier in the day.

Harry's mind wandered, trying once again to understand how he ended up in this time. His thoughts were broken by the call of his adopted name.

"Peters!"

Harry turned to see the Marauders walking towards him, his father in the lead. He stood waiting for them to catch up, leaving James to make the first move in the conversation.

"Slithered away from your friends, Peters?" James said cockily.

"James, leave it. What has he ever done to you?" Lupin tried to reason. Harry would have smiled if he weren't so angry.

"It's more the fact that he exists," James said, an evil look in his eye. Harry had seen this happen before – he knew what was coming.

Before James could get another word out, Harry had disarmed both him and Sirius, knowing that Lupin and Wormtail would never go after him. His father had finally pushed him too far.

"I'd watch your back Potter. At least I _know_ my friends are on the Dark side." Harry smirked triumphantly at the look on James' face, pushing past the group to walk back up to the Castle – never to waste another chance on his father again.

xxxxx

The first person Harry ran into back in the Castle was Snape.

"James Potter is such a prat, " Harry fumed.

"I don't know why you ever thought otherwise. At least now you can be done with it, and hate him like the rest of us." Snape's eyes shined with something akin to triumph, and Harry was certain he was happy about this recent development.

"Potter will rue the day he got on my bad side. I cannot _wait_ to slaughter Gryffindor on the pitch."

The pair walked in comfortable silence back to the common room, Harry still fuming and Snape looking distinctly less sullen than usual.

xxxxx

The next month passed in a blur for Harry, with schoolwork and Quidditch training taking up most of his time. Voldemort had not summoned him since their first meeting, and for that Harry was thankful. He did not feel the same way about Gryffindor's convincing defeat of Hufflepuff however.

Before Harry knew it, Christmas had descended upon the Castle. The majority of the student population had elected to return home for the Christmas break, leaving Harry, with nowhere to go, and Snape the only occupants of the Slytherin dormitories.

The relationship developing between himself and Snape frightened Harry. Their mutual dislike for his father, as much as it pained Harry to admit, seemed to have created a bond between the two. It was hard for Harry to deal with the prospect of their 'friendship' at the start, given that he hated Snape so much in his own time. However, Harry reasoned, Snape was different here – as was Harry's father – and with no immediate prospect of returning to the future, he may as well spend time with someone.

The two spent much of the break working through the mountain of homework that had been assigned to the Sixth Years. Despite the N.E.W.T.s still being more than a year and a half away, which the students were constantly reminding their teachers, their workload did not look like decreasing any time soon.

Harry was grateful when the rest of the students returned at the end of Christmas break – despite their newfound friendship, Harry still found spending so much time with Snape to be strange.

xxxxx

Since Harry's triumphant win for Slytherin in their first match of the season, he had become somewhat of a house hero. His resemblance to James was completely overlooked now, and his housemates were glad to have him on the team.

Their next match was coming up against Gryffindor at the end of February, and Harry couldn't wait to show up his father on the pitch. The most recent match saw Hufflepuff narrowly defeat Ravenclaw, and just watching the game left Harry counting down the days until Slytherin next played.

Gibbs had the team training harder than ever, and it was during a rain soaked session in late January that Harry felt the rusted bronze key Voldemort had given him heat up. The small amount of heat the key provided made Harry realise just how cold he was.

"Oi, Gibbs! We've been at it for hours, we'll have hypothermia if we don't head back inside soon!" Harry yelled over the rain. Just then, Harry saw the Snitch he was practising with, and made a sharp dive to catch the fluttering ball. Pulling out of the dive, Harry saw Gibbs' disgruntled features change to satisfaction at Harry's catch.

"Alright team, let's head back inside and warm up. Good practice!"

Harry didn't even bother with a shower – he quickly stored his broom, checked no one was outside the door, and Apparated straight out of the shed.

xxxxx

After a short, suffocating, journey, Harry opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by trees. Like his last visit to Voldemort, Harry wondered why he had come so willingly. He supposed the fact that Voldemort hadn't yet tried to kill him helped the cause.

"Harry," he jumped slightly as he heard Voldemort's voice behind him, "An impressive reaction time." Harry turned.

"Yeah, well, I wanted out of the rain–" Voldemort looked puzzled, "– Quidditch practice," Harry said, with raised eyebrows. "So here I am," he finished, shrugging.

"Indeed," Voldemort said, giving Harry a looked that questioned his sanity for playing Quidditch in the rain. Honestly, Harry questioned his sanity too, though for entirely different reasons.

"I confess myself… surprised you haven't had any questions for me. How is Hogwarts?"

"It's been okay, I guess. It's not too different from my time – other than the people, of course. Everyone in Slytherin hated me at first," Harry began, unsure of why exactly he was telling Voldemort this, "because I look exactly like my dad. But they're all quite friendly now that I'm winning at Quidditch," Harry smiled at the thought of the game – even in a different time, it would never cease to make him happy.

"Is there anything that's bothering you or you are having trouble with?"

"Uh, not rea– " At the thought of someone in this time actually caring about him, Harry changed his course. "Actually, yeah, there is. When I first arrived here, I realised that I could get to know my dad, and I was so excited. Too bad he hates me," Harry said, hunching his shoulders and letting his eyes drop to the ground.

"What about your mother?" he heard Voldemort ask.

"It's a lost cause – my dad won't even let me get near her," Harry said sullenly, thinking back to the disaster of his attempt a few days previously.

_Harry was absent-mindedly walking towards the Great Hall for dinner when he saw a head of red hair approaching. He slowed his pace in order to let his mother catch him up._

"_Hey, Lily, right?" Harry said casually._

"_Yeah, you're the new student. Harry, isn't it?" Lily replied, a genuine smile gracing her face._

"_That's me! It's nice to meet someone who doesn't immediately judge me for being a Slytherin," before Harry could continue, he was interrupted by a shout from the other side of the Hall._

"_Oi, Peters, get your slimy, Slytherin self away from Evans!" none other than James Potter yelled._

"_Speaking of," Harry muttered to Lily. "You might want to get out of here, this is probably going to end badly."_

"_Potter is an arrogant toe-rag. I'll stay and help out," Lily said defiantly, watching him approach._

"_What are you doing with Evans, Peters? Harassing her? There's going to have to be some sort of punishment for that," Potter stated arrogantly._

"_Potter, why don't you just stay out of things that don't concern you. I cannot see the problem with me having a conversation with Lily – she's not yours." Harry smirked with satisfaction when true anger made it's way onto his father's face. He'd struck a nerve. "What, you've got nothing to say to that?" Harry could feel Lily silently protesting beside him, "It's because you know it's true, don't you Potter?"_

_Before Harry knew what was happening, he saw his father raise his wand and felt himself pulled up in the air by his ankle. This attack enraged Lily, who began shouting at a level rivalling the Howler Ron had received from his mother in Second Year. With reluctance, Potter let him fall to the ground, albeit heavily, and walked away, talking furiously to the other Marauders._

"It is not unsurprising. Gryffindors, in particular, have always had a low opinion of our noble House" Voldemort said at the end of Harry's recollection.

"I guess I knew it was coming, but it still hurt all the same," Harry replied, the hurt shining through in his voice.

"My parents didn't live up to my expectations either. But it's okay – you have your friends in Slytherin House, and you have me. I envision that will be enough to get by until we can return you home."

Harry was still getting used to this caring side of Voldemort, though either way, it felt nice to have someone in this time he could talk (almost) freely to.

"Thanks, that actually means a lot – despite the fact that your future self has tried to kill me four times," Harry half joked.

"Yes, well, I'm glad you feel that way – though I cannot change what my future self has already done. What he is yet to do, however," Voldemort trailed off.

"What do you mean?"

"Let us just say that I believe he could change his ways for something in return. But we shall discuss that another time. You have already been here for quite a period, and we don't want you missed in the Castle. Remember, you can come to me any time you wish. Now off you go."

Harry recognised the dismissal, said a quick 'Goodbye!' and closed his eyes to Apparate back to the Castle.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Mid-October, 1996

The Wizarding World was falling apart. Their Saviour was gone, and society was not handling it well. Even in the muggle world, which knew nothing of Harry Potter, appeared in despair.

Following the fight in the Ministry, when Lord Voldemort had finally revealed himself to the public, support for the 'mentally unstable', 'pathological liar', Boy-Who-Lived had reached new heights. Yet with the boy himself not around to support, they were struggling to find someone, or something, to believe in.

News of brutal attacks was coming to light every other day – entire muggle villages slaughtered, historical landmarks (both Magical and muggle) destroyed, families being wiped out for standing against the Dark Side. The Dementors were breeding, too, adding even further to the gloom.

Details of the Hogsmeade attack, some three months previously, had spread quickly. Even before the following morning, it appeared that most of Britain knew of the fight, and the fatal consequences it had held for Harry Potter – it was inconceivable that he could have survived the killing curse yet again. That his body had disappeared seemed to go unquestioned by most.

xxxxx

Albus Dumbledore was not most. Although he did not know _how_ it happened, he did hold the knowledge that Harry had indeed survived that battle. His continued survival, however, was questionable. He thought back to a conversation he had with Severus at the beginning of term.

_Albus sat serenely behind his desk, fingers folded underneath his chin, surveying Severus through his half-moon glasses._

"_Despite his initial fury, the Dark Lord shows no concern at the loss of Potter's body. It is disconcerting considering how long he has desired to kill the boy," Severus reported._

"_Indeed. One would expect Voldemort –" Severus flinched, "– to broadcast the defeat; to prove his dominance." Albus could not fathom this – unless there was something Voldemort was not letting on, not even to his followers._

Months later and there was still no sign of Voldemort revealing it had been he who made Harry disappear. Albus had continued his search for the boy, but had so far been unsuccessful. He could not, however, shake the feeling that he was missing something obvious – that there was something he was meant to remember.

xxxxx

Ron and Hermione sat silently at the Gryffindor table during the Halloween feast. Their best friend was missing, presumed dead, and today marked the day the three had become friends – the day that, five years ago, Ron and Harry had saved Hermione from Quirrell's troll.

The pair had taken the loss of Harry hard. At first they believed, hoped, Harry would suddenly show up at Hogwarts like nothing had happened, but as time went on, their hopes faded.

Everyone in the school saw the change when three became two – Hermione no longer drew attention to herself in class (though she studied harder than ever), and Ron just looked like a lost puppy, with nothing able to hold his interest.

It was also clear that the two had become closer than ever. One was never seen without the other, and not a night would go by in Gryffindor Tower without them clinging together on a couch, staring unseeingly, not saying a word – taking comfort in their shared pain. No Gryffindor dared separate them, and while they wanted to offer comfort, none knew what to say.

xxxxx

The residents of Number Four, Privet Drive, showed no signs that life was anything other than normal. Ministry officials had received a shock when, two months prior, the Dursleys expressed no concern whatsoever that their nephew had been murdered. The last of their ties with the 'freaks' had been severed, and they could not be happier.

xxxxx

Severus Snape was at a loss. Despite all his pretences of hating the Potter boy, deep down (and this was very, _very_ deep down) he was shattered at said loss. Po- Harry had been his one remaining connection to Lily, the reason he risked his life every day playing the role of double agent. He cast his doe Patronus:

"Lily, I'm so sorry. I tried to protect him, I truly did," he reached out a hand to cup the doe's face. If anyone were to walk into his office, they would have witnessed Severus crying for the first time in 15 years.

"Forgive me," he said shakily, "please."

xxxxx

The ghost of a smile sat on Voldemort's lips. His plan was falling into place. The best part? The Light would have no idea what hit them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** anything you recognise doesn't belong to me.

* * *

The end of February arrived at Hogwarts, bringing with it slightly warmer weather and the much-anticipated Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match. Harry was both nervous and excited – he was finally going to play against his father, and the desire to absolutely decimate his former House was incredible. The morning of the match found Harry sitting with Gibbs and Snape at breakfast.

"We couldn't have asked for better conditions today. A light breeze and just a small amount of cloud, which will eliminate glare. Perfect…" Gibbs spoke.

Harry nodded in agreement: "Gryffindor have got no idea what's coming. We are going to annihilate them."

"The Cup will be all but ours once we beat them. For the first time in years, and we've got you to thank for that Peters. Where did you even learn to fly so spectacularly?" Gibbs asked.

"It's natural, I guess. I never flew before I started school," Harry said modestly.

Snape choked beside him, spraying the cereal he had been chewing across the table. "You nev- how could you have not- but-"

"Eloquence is your forte this morning, Severus?" Harry smirked, still feeling slightly odd calling his least favourite professor by first name. The smirk grew more pronounced as Snape silently fumed, ignoring Harry and turning back to his breakfast. Gibbs looked as though he was fighting a serious battle against laughter.

Composing himself, Gibbs continued: "Try and catch the Snitch early, Peters. I cannot deny the strength of the Gryffindor chasers, and though ours are talented too, I'd prefer not to be trailing."

Smiling at the reminder of Oliver Wood following him around with reminders of what had to be done, Harry replied, "Don't worry, it'll be mine the moment it comes into sight." Gibbs nodded, and turned to engage some fellow Seventh Years in conversation about Charms homework. Harry turned back to Severus, noting he still looked furious.

"Aw, come on Severus, it was only a joke." Silence. "Although, if you're going to just sit there silently, is there a little truth to it?" Harry smirked as he saw a frown appear on Snape's face. "I mean, I thought Slytherins were supposed to be quick thinkers and articulate speakers. You're letting them down, Sev-"

"One moment of shock and speechlessness does not define a person, _Peters_. In fact, it is quite common for even the most –" Snape's rant was cut off by Harry's laughter.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said dismissively, a hint of mirth remaining in his voice.

Their conversation was ended when Gibbs stood, signalling it was time to head to the pitch.

"Do us all a favour and humiliate Potter," Harry heard Snape say as he turned to leave. Turning back, he grinned,

"As if I would miss any chance."

Harry tuned out the conversation around him as the team walked to the pitch, surprised that he wasn't nervous for the match at all – despite the fact he was about to face off against his father. It was a change Harry was beginning to notice about himself since his time in the past – an increase in confidence. Due to his fame in the future, everyone held expectations of him and his supposed 'greatness'. Here in the past, however, he was judged only on his current actions, and was not required to live up to any expectations. It gave him a sense of freedom he had not experienced in a long time.

Changing into his robes, Harry was brought back to the present by Gibbs' pre-match talk.

"Alright, we know we've got a great team, and if we play half as well as we've been practicing Gryffindor won't even have a chance. Let's do it!" Gibbs headed to the door, the team following behind him.

Stepping out into the sunlight, Harry mounted his broom and took off after hearing the whistle. Feeling the familiar exhilaration of flying, Harry did a few quick laps of the pitch before beginning his search for the Snitch.

Out of nowhere, a Bludger soared towards Harry and he had to drop six feet to avoid a collision. Harry looked toward the Gryffindor Beaters, noting it was a Fourth Year he had seen around the Castle, and who looked furious he'd missed. It appeared Hooch, who Harry assumed to be Madam Hooch's father, had not seen the incident take place, and the game carried on.

Harry continued to circle the Pitch, looking for any sign of the game's smallest ball. He let his eyes wander every now and then, watching his father and godfather. Despite the relationship he currently held with his father, Harry agreed with everything he had been told in his future past – James was a fantastic flyer.

Tuning into the commentary for a moment, Harry heard the score: 190-160, with Slytherin in the lead. As he was about to turn back to his search, Harry saw it: the Snitch was hovering just above the commentary box. Looking around the ground, he saw the Gryffindor Seeker high above the opposite end of the pitch, oblivious to the Snitch's presence. Without even drawing attention to himself, Harry floated over and caught the small, golden ball.

Moments later, when they realised what had happened, the green and silver section of the stadium created more noise than Harry had heard in a long time. Landing with the rest of the team, he was all but carried back to the common room, where the celebrations lasted long into the night.

xxxxx

Monday morning found Harry in Potions. It became clear very quickly that his father was none too pleased at being defeated, and was going to do nothing to hide it.

Harry was seated with Snape, quite happily working together on today's task. Their growing friendship had not gone unnoticed around the school – Snape making friends appeared to be a rare event.

"Looks like Peters has finally fallen over to the Dark side, hey Padfoot. Why would anyone want to be friends with Snivellus otherwise?" his father spoke more loudly than was really required, with Sirius beside him. Harry ignored what was an obvious attempt at baiting him. Clearly annoyed at said ignorance, James tried another tactic.

"Oi, Peters, have you got nothing to say for yourself?"

Without even turning around, Harry replied: "Even though it's none of your business, no – I have not 'fallen over to the Dark side'. I also didn't realise who I'm friends with was any of your concern either."

"I just want to know why you're friends with people on the Dark side if you are not Dark yourself. You can try denying it, but it all seems pretty clear to me." Harry turned in his seat to face his father at this point.

"I fail to comprehend how this involves you at all. And, as I've told you before, Potter; at least I _know_ my friends are Dark," Harry said spitefully, taking pleasure at the look of confusion on his father's face.

"What do you mean?" his father asked, with a slight sense of worry only Harry seemed to notice.

"Exactly what I said. Surely you've got at least some brains in that big head of yours." Harry turned back to his work, ignoring the collective intake of breath around the room.

"Now now boys, there's no need –" Slughorn attempted to intervene, but was ignored.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not friends with a slime ball. Be careful, he might get clingy; afterall, he did drive away his only friend last year. Too bad you weren't here for it Peters, it was quite a spectacular event," his father said cockily. Harry saw Severus reach for his wand, and placed a hand on his arm to stop the movement. Standing, Harry turned back to face James.

"This isn't about Severus," Harry stated calmly, "though I notice you take any chance to attack him. And you know what that makes you? A common, schoolyard bully. Not really an attractive quality, don't you think?" Harry questioned, glancing to where Lily sat on the other side of the dungeon.

"I really must insist –" Slughorn tried, only to be ignored once again.

"Don't even talk about Evans, Peters, she has absolutely nothing to do with this," his father growled, also rising to his feet.

"Oh, so you can say all you like about my friends, but I'm not allowed anywhere near the topic of your- well, she's not really your friend, is she? And she definitely won't like you back at this rate," Harry smirked at the effect his words were having. He did feel bad for bringing his mother into this though; she hadn't done anything wrong.

"One more word Peters, and I swear –"

"You'll what? Hex me? I'd like to see you try." Harry had spent his time in the past productively, using the Room of Requirement to train for the war he would eventually return to fight – leaving him with reflexes, skills, and knowledge far beyond what could be learnt in school.

James was silent, looking like a fish out of water – seemingly unable to think of a response. Harry just laughed.

"That's what I thought." With this statement, the bell signalling the end of the period rang, startling the rest of the class out of their awe at someone actually standing up to James Potter.

Harry reached down to grab his bag, and strode straight past his father and out the door.

Without even registering what he was doing, Harry sought his connection with Voldemort. Before anyone else had even left the class, he was gone.


End file.
